


Better When I Bleed For You

by Churbooseanon



Series: Starlight Challenges [10]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash faces the betrayal of two lovers, both alike and very, very different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better When I Bleed For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ConfessionForAnotherTime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionForAnotherTime/gifts).



> No, I don't think Grey is evil. This was mostly because Confessionforanothertime decided to go and make it a point to say on tumblr last night that a sad Nork story she's working on will upset me. FUCKING HELL. So I decided to launch my own attack. She gave me the ships to use. I ran with it. 
> 
> For Starlight Challenge 4/6/2015: The blood ran down the gutter drain.

The parallels are there for anyone to see, even if a lot of the major details are different. It’s still Washington standing at the bottom of a ramp. It’s still her up there at the top, a vision in violet and holding her betrayal before him as if it was nothing. As if he doesn’t have the strength to face the truth that only she possesses. 

How well he remembers this moment. Remembers everything that happens anymore. South, bleeding slowly from a shot dealt by Caboose, staring down at him, a taunt in her voice. What is he going to do, shoot her? There is disdain there, in the voice that used to be sweet to him. He can see a shake in the hands that used to hold him, used to toy with his hair, used to punch him in the shoulder in a way that was both her way of reinforcing her dominance, and at the same time a touch of affection. 

In that moment his heart aches so deeply for her and the easy downtime on the MOI. Seconds that were eternities as they laid together, bodies slick with sweat, the taste of her still sweet on his lips. Endless seconds where his hands ghosted over the softness of her skin, pressed against the firm strength of her muscles. And oh was South muscled. His beloved jagiya, his other half, a soldier of untold potential beside him. Her strength dwarfed his own much like her size. While he fingers explore, run teasing and light circles around a dusty pink nipple, her lips are at his neck. The crown of his head. His brow. Their affections are in tender touches that must be secrets shared in the dark. Her voice can be so soft and gentle, coming out in gasps and whispers of pleasure as his fingers, his tongue, his arousal work her toward the ecstasy he’s only found limitless potential in through her. 

It’s a stark contrast to the woman who looks down on him now. The woman who shot him in the back. All the tenderness, all the kindness, all his gentle love has been leeched from this beast before him, and he has no choice but to put her down. Her fear, her greed drive her ever forward like a feral dog, seeking ever its next meal. Perhaps it is grief too, and guilt. 

Wash will never know. 

When it’s done his hand falls limply to his side and he strides up the ramp. It’s protocol. He isn’t a ‘cold motherfucker’ as is said. This is what he has to do, because it’s his job, because this is another job and this is just another teammate dead. Not his best friend. Not his mentor. And it definitely hasn’t gone far enough that it’s now his lost lover dead before him, his orders on destruction. 

Grief doesn’t tighten his throat as he starts moving explosives from the base and around her body. He isn’t some animal trying to hide the extent of his mistake before his masters find him. This isn’t him hiding the evidence, or driving away pain. 

So why are there tears in his eyes every time he looks at her still form? Why does he gingerly step around the slowly spreading blood? Why can’t he look? Why can’t he remember her face? 

If he closes his eyes she could just be laying there peacefully. 

Wash doesn’t close his eyes as he sets off the explosion that wipes away any trace that he once had a heart. Had love. Had someone who cared about him. 

David is long since dead. Only Recovery stands. Only Washington can survive. 

It was true then, and it is true now. Another ramp, another woman atop it. looking down on him. Hurt she’s not, so there goes that one. But traitor?

Wash can see Carolina beside him, on her knees, trying to process what is lost to her. Trying to fathom what has been done by someone they had dared to trust. Someone Washington had…

Grey’s lips taste like cherry lipbalm. Wash has always loved that, the way that his mouth is filled with flavor as he kisses her. In so many ways she’s different from another woman that he refuses to remember the name of, the face of, the love of. He thinks before his lover was gentle and slow, called him sweet names and whispered encouragement in a time they shared alone. Grey is different. She’s fire in his arms, passion that controls and guides, and he’s loved having the spark of her in his life. When they’re alone she presses him against walls and tears off their helmets. It’s up to him to be cautious when she jumps up and her legs are wrapped around his waist. 

More often than not he carries her into the nearest room, finds the nearest flat surface, and then she takes true control. Lays him down and strips them both. Then it’s all he can do to hold her hips, touch her skin, leave his marks in the desperate rush of their coupling. When it’s done he licks sweat from her lithe little form and she bites possession into his shoulders and sometimes his hips. The ache she leaves is a good one, reminds him that the world is tough, is cruel, will hurt him. But she makes him feel alive in a way he hasn’t in so long. 

And there she is, atop a ramp, rain drops rolling over the purple and white of her armor. Unlike Felix and Locus she doesn’t bother to give any speeches, doesn’t crow her dominance over them. She just turns to walk away, certain that in their shock Carolina and Washington won’t act. Confident that the Reds won’t know what to do and Tucker won’t make it in time. Clearly certain Caboose can’t harm her, because she’s the one that put Freckles in the gun, leashed Caboose’s ability to hurt others. 

Grey doesn’t know about another woman, another ramp, another betrayal. 

The way she stumbles forward a step after the gun goes off almost cuts him to the quick. Slowly Grey turns, her hand coming from her stomach, coming up red on so much white. Oh, she whispers, her voice low and shocked, and then there is a second hole through her shoulder. A third in the knee. And her gaze through that purple disk in the middle of her helmet, settles on him for half a second. 

The hole that forms in it cracks outward in a beautiful spider web of darkness, radiating from the end of her life. 

Silence dominates the group, and Washington wonders whether any of them know. Any them understand. Did Caboose tell that story to Epsilon? Probably not. And would Caboose remember? 

He doesn’t care. 

Wash strides up another ramp, watches as blood rolls down and over the edge, dripping water tinted red by the richness of Grey’s lost life. When he reaches the top he has to back up a step to make sure none of the red rolls against the toe of his boots. The rest of his clip he empties into her helmet until there is very little left that is recognizable. For good measure he leaves a pair of sticky grenades before walking back down the ramp. 

The force of the explosion, so close behind him, upsets his balance and sends him rolling down the ramp. At the bottom he doesn’t bother getting up. Just lays there and pretends rain is getting into his helmet and that’s the only reason why his face is wet. 

And he tries to forget the touch of their lips and the promises they whispered to him, and the sickness in his gut when they revealed them all empty.


End file.
